


When Tommorow Comes

by waywarddreamer



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:33:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22299376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywarddreamer/pseuds/waywarddreamer
Summary: She remembers when Triss first showed up to Aretuza much younger than most, stumbling to their front doors. They didn’t bother looking for her parents, she was probably tossed aside like the rest of them. Unwanted and unloved. At least they had to decency to leave her there.
Relationships: Triss Merigold & Tissaia de Vries, slight triss/yennefer
Comments: 4
Kudos: 77





	When Tommorow Comes

**Author's Note:**

> Tissaia and Triss talk at Sodden Hill.

Tissaia sips on the bitter ale as she looks around the little makeshift party. A little fun to forget what this really is-a war-and no doubt some of the mages she’s known for ages will be dead by this same time tomorrow. Out of the corner of her eye, she spots a mass of chestnut brown hair.

A young mage, not as old as most of her students on this Hill, who last she heard helped King Foltest out with his little “werewolf” problem. She looked at her, the young woman had fully grown into her features. Her soft face framed by her curly hair. Her freckles had a slight blush(most likely from the alcohol) to them as she talked with her fellow mages near the food.

She remembers when Triss first showed up to Aretuza much younger than most, stumbling to their front doors. They didn’t bother looking for her parents, she was probably tossed aside like the rest of them. Unwanted and unloved. At least they had to decency to leave her there.

If she was distraught by the abandonment she didn’t show it. She had taken to Tisssia quite quickly despite the older woman’s annoyance when she interrupted her studies by barging into her office or slipping from her given caretaker just to find her. She liked to cling behind her legs, the only thing you would be able to see was her poofy hair. Some of the older students gave her the nickname “Lion” for it. Her brown eyes, always wide, struggling to hold the excitement in them, eager and ready to learn about everything around her. She was barely able to peak over her desk as she babbled on and on in her office. Sometimes Tissaia would just put her pipe down and stare at the small child who was talking aimlessly. It was refreshing to see the brightness in this child’s eyes. It would be a shame that she would have to dim it in order to prepare her for this world. It wouldn’t be a pretty world especially for her but like the rest of her students, Tissaia was going to teach her how to thrive. Become a goddess amongst men.

Triss got older and was disappointed when she found out she was allergic to potions. The first time that anything had stood in her way and it was her own body that betrayed her. She spent a whole week in despair walking solemnly around the place, the quietest that Tissaia ever saw her. It was surprisingly unsettling not hearing her voice constantly. When making her rounds she turned toward Triss’s room, hearing her sniffles and sobs, lingering there before moving on. She waited for her to make the choice on her own. It was up to Triss to show her who she truly was. Tissaia watched as she became interested in botany, interested in growing and healing, carving her own path around her handicap. Instead, she used her new knowledge of plants to become even better at making potions with new techniques, tweaking them so she would no longer have allergic reactions. 

She stopped chatting so much and poured herself into the studies and Tissaia obliged her, pushing her harder than the rest of the mages in her class. Pushed her until she stretched Triss to her limits and sometimes far beyond until she cried until she raged at her. Until she asked why she hated her. Tissaia would fix her with that same passive stare before continuing the lesson. The other mages did not envy Triss. Tissaia would make her weakness her strength.

Tissaia would catch her in the greenroom late at night, her hands trembling from exhaustion, her palms scratched from some of the plants she was using. On those nights, she would say nothing gentling wrapping Triss’s palm up before escorting her back to her room. She became one of her best students that ever ascended.

-

Triss saw her looking over and smiled brightly before excusing herself from the group, slightly swaying as she approached her old mentor. Tissaia smiled at the sight. She wondered just how drunk she was.

“Soooooo-” Triss drawled, raising her eyebrows, her eyes sliding over to Vilgefortz with a mischievous glint. “I see you're enjoying yourself.” Tissaia followed her line of sight, to which he noticed her looking and winked at her before turning back to his conversation.

She quite liked Triss’s boldness. If there was one thing to appreciate from this upcoming battle, it was a nice refresher, from her new students who would tremble in fear at a slight look from her.

“I see you are too,” she said, teasingly. Looking at the-she supposed it was- the fifth cup of alcohol Triss had that night.

“We might all die tomorrow so might as well,” Triss said it jokingly, but there was a tinge of something behind it as she stared at beyond the hill. She stared up at Triss, seeing a thousand different ways she could die tomorrow. A quick bow to the chest making her fall dead before she could stop it. A single swipe of a sword to her neck. Another person she would have to bury someone who for a mage was barely an adult. If this was going to be the last conversation they would have she should at least make it mean something.

“Do you ever think about them?” she said, abruptly never one to beat around the bush.

Triss’s smile dropped a little bit at the topic, as she tensed up. “Does it matter?”

“Does it?” her tone sharp, which made the girl flinch a little bit. However, she recovered quickly. Triss sitting down next to her, taking another sip of her drink as she stared out into the darkness, her face hardening.

“I do. I still do.” Triss said finally, letting out a little sigh. “I always have.”

“I could never tell.”

Triss gave a wry little smile. “Most people couldn’t. I tried my best to not let it bother me. I probably had a better childhood than most,” her eyes roaming around to eventually land on Yennefer.

“And yet you still wonder,” Tissaia said. Triss’s hand tighten around her cup.

“Foolish, I know.” she said bitterly, all teeth but no smile. “I felt like I had to prove that I was worth keeping. Even though they probably never wanted me even for a minute. Even now I feel like I’m doing this for them to show them what a mistake they made.”

Tissaia looked over her form, watching her eyebrows furrow, the way vines snaked out from between her hands, the way her nails dug into the cup. So similar as to when she used to patch her up, pulling the thorns out the palm of Triss’s hands. It was such a strange look to see her like this but it was not an unwelcome one. Anger has its uses.

“That they did.” she said finally sipping from her own cup, before continuing. “Life has no room for what-ifs, Triss.” The other woman looked through her eyes. “What must happen will happen.”

“And look at who you’ve become.” The sincerity in Tissaia’s voice caught Triss off guard and she knew it couldn’t have been the ale. She barely drank any.

To her surprise, Triss’s smile slipped back onto her face. Her smile becoming wide. “We all have a purpose don’t we.”

“And what do you think yours is.” Tissaia said, raising her eyebrows.

“Only destiny can truly tell,” Triss said, tilting her head down at her, a teasing smile on her face. “Isn’t that what everyone likes to tell us.”

For a moment, she felt as if she was the student. That Triss was her mentor who could see beyond this moment. There was something beautiful about it. “But despite everything I know one thing to be true. That it's my fate to be here. Right now with you.” she said to Tissaia. “No matter what.”

Triss said it with such finality and passion blazing in their eyes. She seemed like the brightest thing at the camp. Neither mage said anything as they stared at each other. Her little lion had grown up into a beautiful mage. Tissaia cracked a proud smile. Now her equal, standing even taller than her now. Able to look her in the eyes and hold her own.

“Go enjoy your night, little lion,” she said, flicking her head toward Yennefer who was staring off in the distance ignoring the way Triss’s cheeks flushed at her childhood nickname “And maybe encourage others too as well.”

Triss nodded, making her move and then stopping suddenly. She watched as Triss’s hands moved before she produced a flower and presented it to her. She gently reached out taking it in her hands. Before Triss left practically skipping towards Yennefer.

Tissasia watched them with a warmness in her chest. No matter how hard she was on them or how brute the others thought she was to her students. They turned out into beautiful mages who would fight with her till the end. She twirled the flower, a pink carnation, the beautiful color vibrant among the cold stones. In return, she would guide them to their purpose like she always had, shielding them from themselves before turning them out to the world, the bringers of change. They would be her legacy.

She couldn’t ask for anything more than that.


End file.
